


I'm Going Home

by aylouise



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aylouise/pseuds/aylouise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, and Castiel are on a job, and Dean does something stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this isn't my first fan fiction, but it was just a random idea I had. I had a lot of feels writing this. It's set after Season 8, I suppose. It took my like an hour to write it, so sorry if it's completely awful! Thank you!

"Come and get me you ugly son of a bitch."

It was probably the wrong thing to say. Dean had a habit of saying the wrong thing, especially when it came to Demons. But if you wanted to piss one off, Dean was the first guy you called. That was his intention this time; he was distracting him so Sam and Cas could get the girl to safety. Lorna, her name was. Blonde hair, brown eyes. She was pretty. It was worth it just to save her. He never even thought for a moment how his ploy might play out. He never really did. It always just seemed to... work out.

The Demon took the bait. It turned and smirked at Dean, and Dean gave his own cocky smile in return, whilst Sam and Cas picked the girl up and ushered her out of the room, hoping to get her to a safe distance before coming back to assist Dean, if he needed it. They were barely out of the door before the Demon flew at Dean, baring his blood-stained teeth and snarling, like an injured wolf leaping at the hunter which had shot it. Dean was on the offensive, arms shoving him away whilst he raised his right leg to deliver a firm kick to the abdomen. The Demon went reeling back, crashing into the door jamb which connected the living room and the kitchen of the run-down, dilapidated piece of shit it had set up shop in. He came running back for more almost instantaneously, swinging a clawed hand at Dean's head, but grasping only thin air. Dean had ducked, and grabbed the Demon's arm, pulling it forward toward him and spinning him round, holding him in a headlock so that he couldn't move. The Demon was clever though. He bit Dean's arm, drawing blood, and Dean shoved him away, grunting in pain and covering the bite wound with this hand. The Demon grinned.

"You gonna give up now? We're only jus' gettin' started!" Its breath was erratic, rushing in and out of its host's body in exhausted bursts. He had a grin on his face, made all the more horrific by the blood staining his teeth.

"Gimme the best you've got, chuckles." Dean scrubbed the bite mark on his arm one last time, slipping Ruby's knife out of his back pocket and bringing it round so that the Demon had full view of it. Its grin slipped, but the essence of a smile still remained. He raised his palms upward, like a challenge.

"'Till the death."

It happened quickly. The Demon ran at him, even in the confined space, and Dean braced himself for the brute force which was about to hit him. In less than a second, the Demon had barrelled him over, rolling them both into a corner. Dean's grip on his knife was loosened, and it flew from his hands. He didn't want to chance what the Demon could do when his back was turned, so he stayed firmly in place, not looking for the knife, instead staring down at his opponent. It looked back up at him, eyes shining, and it laughed.

"My, my. I've heard a lot about you, Winchester. Got to say, I'm disappointed."

Dean grinned dryly as he grunted, "Oh yeah, and why's that?"

He didn't see the Demon move until he felt a sharp pain under his ribcage.

"Thought you would have kept a tighter hold on this." Dean looked down to see the hilt of Ruby's knife buried in his flesh. He didn't realise at first what it meant. He was just confused as to where the blade had gone. Then... then he knew. Horror dawned on his face as the Demon let rip a cackle that would put witches to shame. "Have fun in hell, baby."

He didn't need to think about it. It didn't warrant a second thought. Without hesitating, Dean pulled the knife from himself and slammed it down on the Demon's chest. A mixture of orange and yellow light flashed from within the body, travelling up the veins and into its eyes, circling the irises and consuming them. Barely a second later, they were hollow, empty, and screaming of death. It took him a few seconds, but he let go of the knife and lowered his eyes to his ribs. The blood... it was dripping out of him like a bad gas leak. He inhaled a small breath of air, barely noticeable, but the very air around him shuddered when he did so. He rolled off the Demon onto his back. The floor was filthy, covered in mud, leaves, blood, and other indistinguishable things. The fact that he was lying in filth didn't bother him. All he could think of were two things.

"Sammy?!"

Seconds passed. Silence. Of course. Sam and Cas were taking the girl to safety. Right. Of course. They didn't know. They couldn't know. There was no way they could possibly know.

Wait. Cas.

"...Cas?"

Barely a millisecond had passed before the sound of wings gently filtered through the air, and Cas was standing in the middle of the room, looking around, searching for Dean. It took maybe two or three seconds, but to Dean it felt like eons. Nothing was moving slower, like he thought it would be. It was exactly the same; it was just him that had slowed down. It took him a while before he realised that Cas was now crouching beside him, saying his name over and over again.

"Dean? Dean, can you hear me? Dean, Dean, please say something. Dean!"

He blinked, ran his tongue over his lips, swallowed. It felt like he'd had his throat gravelled. He managed to muster up a small smile, reaching his hand up and gently taking the lapel of Cas' trench coat between his fingers. That stupid, ridiculous, god-awful, endearing as fuck trench coat. He let the soft material graze beneath his fingers. He had never felt it like this before. It felt magnificent. He raised his eye's to Cas', his Castiel's, and saw the bright blue which he had never before seen, except on his angel, filled with pain and sorrow. Something was wrong. Something was deeply wrong.

"What's up Cas, you look like you've seen a ghost." He chuckled, and tasted something metallic in his mouth. Blood. Like he didn't know how that tasted. Cas' eyebrows furrowed together, and he seemed to glare at Dean.

"Dean, this is not a laughing matter. You are bleeding."

Dean simply smiled up at Cas and smoothed a thumb over the lapel of the trench coat again. Somehow, it was keeping him grounded.

"Well then, angel, fix me up. I know it's been a while, but I won't complain if you hit a few bumps on the job. I promise."

Dean was still smoothing his thumb over the lapel, bathing in the texture, so it took him a few moments to realise Castiel's eyes were shining. He gazed at them, amazed at how an angel could make a regular person's body so beautiful and graceful... then he realised that his eyes were actually full of tears. This wasn't heavenly grace he was seeing. It was emotion. Pure, human emotion.

"Cas... Cas, what's wrong?"

Cas' eyes fell momentarily to Dean's wound, which was still steadily oozing blood, and then raised his eyes back to Dean's. The angel, his poor angel, looked like he was in pain. He opened his mouth the tiniest bit, breathing in a sharp breath of air before three words left his lips.

"Dean... I'm trying."

Dean was momentarily speechless before speaking again. "Trying to do what?"

Cas bit his lip. Dean watched as it crinkled and lifted his other hand to erase them. Usually, doing this made Castiel smile, but apparently this was the one exception.

"Talk to me Cas. Please. Please talk to me. Trying to do what?"

His angel blinked twice before telling him. "I'm trying to heal you... and... I... I-I cannot do so."

Dean's eyes widened in realisation. His angel couldn't save him. His angel could not put him back together again like he had once done so in Hell, like he had done in the cemetery in Kansas...this was the end.

He could not tear his eyes away from Cas', even as the words began to sink deeper into his mind, hooking into him with everything it had and pulling him in the direction of fear. But instead of giving in, he kept on staring at Castiel's bright eyes, trailing his fingers over his lips and cheeks, and feeling the warmth of his trench coat. If he was going to go, he was going to go. He knew that there was no way to stop it. There was only one thing he wanted if this was going to be his final moments on Earth.

"Sammy. Sam. I need Sam. Please, please Cas, please-"

Castiel was gone before Dean could go any further, and was back just as quickly as he had disappeared, holding Sam by the arm. Sam stumbled, clearly still not used to Cas' angel transportation. It made Dean laugh quietly to himself, before Sam’s eyes found his and the truth was made clear in them.

"No." Sam flung himself across the room, scraping his knees along the floor but paying no attention in his desperate need to get to his brother's side. "No, no, no, no, no, Dean, Dean, no, Dean-"

"Sammy." Dean's one word silenced the many his brother had. _This is it_ , he thought, _my long awaited chick flick moment_. "Look. I know you feel you have a lot you need to say to me, but don't. You can tell me one day, but I only get one chance to tell you this."

"Dean, don't do this-"

"Sam, let me do this. I have to say this." A sharp flash of pain suddenly shot up his chest, and he grunted in pain, clenching his eyes closed and his hands into fists. Sam's hands grasped at his shoulders, but Dean shook him off. "I'm good. Look, listen to me. I know I always put you down, but you pay attention because I will not repeat this. You are the best goddamn thing that ever happened to this world, even with the apocalypse and all that shit. You were the best damn brother to me that I could have asked for, even if you do have a pansy-ass taste in music." Sam smiled at that, but tears were threatening to spill over his eyes. Dean soldiered on. "I want you to go and do me proud. Do whatever you want to do. As long as you're happy, I'm happy. If you hunt, be the best damn hunter you can be. If you go back to Stanford, be the best damn lawyer you could have been before I dragged you back into this mess. And if you meet a girl, and you have a kid... I know you'd be the best damn father a guy could ever ask for. I know you would have done me proud if you and Jessica could have... you know..."

His throat was closing up. A tear spilled from his eye and rolled into his hairline. Sam was grasping his hands so tight they were turning white.

"I'll make you proud Dean. I promise you."

Dean grinned heartily. "I know you will, bitch."

Sam looked down, taking a deep breath before looking back up to his brother's dying face. Tears were running down his face in great rivers, and he couldn't help the downward curl of his mouth as he bit back a sob to tell his brother, "Jerk."

Dean grabbed his brother by the back of his neck and pulled him in, forehead resting against forehead as he closed his eyes, soaking in his brother' presence one last time for God knows how long. He couldn't stop his words from shaking, coming out in laboured breaths as he told his brother for the last time in his life, "I love you."

Sam was vibrating with the silent sobs that were shaking his entire body. He barely managed to whisper back, "I love you too."

They stayed like that for a few seconds, breathing in each other's air, before Dean cleared his throat and Sam moved back. Dean smiled at his brother; he always knew just what to do around him.

"Oh, and don't douche up my baby, or I'll haunt your lily-white ass."

Sam smiled before saying, "I won't."

Dean turned his head, and saw Cas in the corner of the room, looking down at his hands in an attempt to not intrude on the brotherly show of emotion they had just had. Dean cleared his throat, and Cas looked up. He looked so sad.

"Cas... could you come here for a second?"

His angel looked down at his hands and then stood, striding over to Dean and kneeling in the pool of blood that now surrounded the hunter. He looked down at Dean, and blinked several times before focusing on the floor next to him.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. He couldn't think of a single reason why his angel should apologise to him.

"What are you sorry for, Cas?"

Castiel continued to stare at the same space of floor, with the same blank expression adorning his face.

"I have failed you Dean."

Dean laughed, and was met with a disapproving glance from Castiel before the angel resumed his staring contest with the plank of wood. "Cas... you could never fail me."

Cas' eyes broke from their acquired spot and flickered over Dean. "But... I was sent here to protect you. I have failed to do so. Therefore, I have failed you."

Dean simply smiled and raised his hand to cup the back of Cas' neck. The angel closed his eyes and breathed in, savouring the touch. Dean soothingly rubbed small circles into Cas' hairline. Castiel opened his eyes and touched his fingers to Dean's face, slowly and carefully tracing patterns on his skin. Dean raised his other hand to the angel's trench coat - that awfully beautiful trench coat - and began to smooth his finger over it again. Castiel used his other hand to run his fingers over Dean's lips. In the small expanse of time which these movements occurred in, both caught the others gaze flickering down to their lips, and they shared a small smile.

"You don't understand do you?" Cas' head tilted quizzically to the side, as he so often did so, and it made Dean's heart hurt just that little bit more as he moved Cas, his angel's, head down so that their lips could meet in a delicate embrace. It was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever felt.

Castiel could only describe it as the wind running through his wings as he soared up through the sky to walk through the gates of Heaven. Dean would tell you to mind your own damn business, but in selective company he would tell you how there was nothing on Earth that he knew of which could compare to the kiss of his angel of Thursday. It did not last for more than a few seconds, but in that one kiss, they had told each other everything they needed to.

Dean kept his eyes closed some moments afterwards. He felt the need to bathe in the experience, to let it wash over him. But instead, he forced his eyes to open and he met the clear, icy blue of his angel's eyes. His unique, worldly eyes. He smiled and trailed his fingertips down the side of Castiel's cheek before whispering three breathless words to him.

"I'm going home." He smiled up at Castiel, and Castiel smiled back. His angel knew what he meant. He felt his chest tighten, and it took all the energy left in him to murmur, "I'll see you there."

Then, his eyes closed, as he slipped off into endless sleep upon the Earth. Castiel lowered his head and said a prayer, asking his brothers and sisters to take care of the Righteous Man when his soul arrived in the Kingdom of Heaven.

\-----

The burial was simple. A small grave in the Kansas cemetery, where Mary was buried. They had buried his lighter with him, like last time. Hunter's tradition. But this time Sam knew he was really gone. Castiel stayed with him for a while. He promised to check in on him every few weeks to tell him how Dean was doing, and to pass on any messages. Sam asked Cas to tell his brother he missed him. Castiel nodded, and was gone in a flash of wings. Then, Sam carried on his life.

\-----

He wasn't sure where he was. He was stood outside a small shack. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like that place Ash had set up shop when he and Sam had visited Heaven a few years back. But... it couldn't be... could it?

Before he could contemplate this option any further, the door flew open and a face he hadn't seen in a long time popped out.

"Well, you coming in or not? We've got a big party planned for ya!"

Before he could even think about it, Dean had enveloped her in a hug.

"Hey there Jo."

She laughed. "Hey! Enough time to do that later! Come on inside, everyone's been dying to see you! Excuse the pun..."

He followed her inside, and there, stood inside that shitty little bar that Ash had created for himself stood the most important people in his life; Mary, John, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Ash... there weren't an over-abundance of people, but it was enough for him. He jumped in, hugging his mother first, for longer than he could think of. He didn't seem to be able to let go. Then his father, who smiled at him. The first genuine smile he had seen on his father since Mary had died. Eventually he got around everyone, and they all swapped stories. He was in the middle of listening to Ash's fantastic rendition of him and Pam's last round in the bar when he heard the fluttering of wings behind him. He span around so fast he probably would have broken his neck, if he wasn't already dead.

"Cas."

If his angel looked beautiful on Earth, it was nothing compared to how he looked in Heaven. He had an ethereal glow, and seemed to emanate power and grace and love and everything good in the world. Dean leapt up from his chair immediately and wrapped his arms around the angel, who returned the gesture whole-heartedly. Then he brought Cas' face between his hands, and kissed him on the lips. He grinned at the flustered look on his angel's face when they parted.

"I missed you Cas."

Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's short hair, making short electric currents shoot up and down Dean's spine, as he whispered, "I missed you too."


End file.
